Lords And Ladies
by Clockmaker
Summary: It's the Teen Titans... In Victorian Britain. From pickpockets to manservants to fine lords and ladies, these five people seem to find each other no matter what era they're in. Slight Raven and BB focus.
1. London Morning

**Ah, the second fic attempted! A few notes: being that this takes place in Victorian Britain, I've changed some names. Beast Boy goes by his real name, Garfield or just Gar. Starfire has become Star O'Flannigan. Raven and Robin get to keep their names, because they actually work. Cyborg also gets his real name, Vincent or Vince. Now onwards, me friends, to that loverly, coal-encrusted London of times past…**

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"Apples, fresh apples! Fresh from the country, getchor apples 'ere!"

"'Allo miss, wot's it today, trout?"

"Flower sir? A rose for the lovely laydie?"

"Twenty pence! That's not roight, that ain't."

Gar stretched. Blinking and yawning, he scurried out of his nest of blankets, fumbling in the darkness of the coal cellar for his battered top hat. With the desired item finally atop his head (or more realistically, falling down around his ears), he poked a grimy face out into the misty morning air. With a deep, satisfied breath of the smoky air, Gar set out into the welcoming throng of the marketplace.

"Good mornin', London town. It's lookin' to be a foine day."

"Piss off!" Of course, some parts weren't so welcoming. Gar whistled his way past the livid stallkeeper, and waited until just out of sight to eat the orange he'd just stolen. It was good luck for this morning. Usually oranges were hard to get, and Gar took his sweet time peeling this one and carefully splitting the sections apart. He gobbled one right away, then put the rest in his pocket.

"Oi'll make a deal with yew," he murmured to himself, lightly eyeing the pockets of passeryby. "Every toime yew get summat, Oi'll give yew a bit of this delicious orange. Deal? Roight." Gar sealed the pact, shaking hands with himself. After spending a few minutes curiously attempting to complete this action without turning one hand upside-down, he gave up, spat in both hands and clapped them together.

"There," he nodded in satisfaction. "That'll do."

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"Good mornin', Miss Flannigan, what can I do for you today?"

"Good mornin'!" Star O'Flannigan, widely regarded as one of the most stunning maids among the market's regular society, smiled and brushed her long red hair to the side. "There's a big order today, John. The master's 'avin' a dinner party tonoight."

"Oi'll make sure to get twice as much as usual, Miss Flannigan." The butcher set about his art, neatly cleaving chunks of meat and swiping them into quick little paper packages. "'Ow's Lord Gray doin'? Oi've 'eard 'e's not on good terms wiv young Master Gray lately."

Star blushed. "Oh, Master Gray's well enough, well enough, I suppose. The two of them argue somethin' 'orful, though. Too similar to each other to see wot's goin' on."

"Let's 'ope they ain't _too_ much alike." Leaning forward to present her with the complete bundle of meats, the butcher whispered confidentially, "Oi'm just waitin' for ol' Lord Gray to kick the bucket. Things ain't been to good since 'e's been around, you know moi meanin'."

With a worried nod, Star set off about the rest of her errands. Master Gray… She sighed wistfully as the morning light caught the golden red of her hair, which sent a number of nearby young men running to find a secluded corner of the market to calm down in. Star continued obliviously along, sighing more than ever in her thoughts of the young lord. Perhaps one day as she served dinner he would look up from beneath that dark, dark hair, and invite her to come and sit and eat beside him. They would fall in love, elope, run off to America, have children… _Sigh_. Star expertly blocked out all the noise of the market and sailed forth with a blank and happy look on her face. It could happen, of course it could. Perhaps. _Mmm, anythin' could 'appen…As long as Oi wosn't the kitchen girl Oi am._ The now bitter thoughts produced another sigh.

"Chroist, lady, will ya stop doin' that? Yore droivin' me bloody insane ova' 'ere!"

Star gave a little jump, surprised to find a boy not much younger (but a fair bit shorter) than herself standing just feet away. The horribly grimy boy poked his top hat up a bit so he could see and took a bite of an orange slice, scowling in irritation the whole time.

"Well Oi'm terribly sorry Oi _disturbed _yore delicate thoughts, assumin' yew even _'ave_ any," Star snapped, herself irritated at the interruption.

"That's good yore sorry, 'coz yew should be. An 'ole market full 'o food, an' all yew can do is daydream. It's a cryin' shame, it, is."

"Oi'll 'ave yew know that-"

"'An Oi do 'ave thoughts, even if they ain't delicate."

"Well Oi'll just leave yew to them then, won't Oi?" Star stormed off, the dreamy reverie of the morning broken. Oddly, she heard the boy calling in the distance as she left.

"Thanks for breakfast, laydie!"

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**Woo, chapter one! I make an extra-special request for reviews because this is weird and experimental. Tell me if the accents hurt or help, and other such things that come to mind. Many thanks!**


	2. In Nobleman's Writing

**Wow! I was amazed at the number of reviews I got for chapter one! That was sudden. Anyways: Lots of mixed reviews of the accents. Some people said it worked well, others that it was just annoying. I've decided to keep them, but tone down the spelling changes just a bit in some cases. _I love you all! _Orange slices all around! By the by, thanks bunnysquirrel for calling my mistake: Cyborg's real name is Victor, not Vincent. Oops… I'll shut up and let you read the story now. **

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_Slam_.

Star burst into the kitchen in a panic.

"Where is it? It 'as to be 'ere, it 'as to be!" Unceremoniously dumping her over-full basket of dinner ingredients on the large scrubbed table, she stumbled about the kitchen, desperately opening and searching cabinets and drawers. After fumbling through the last drawer full of chipped, tarnished utensils, she collapsed on a wooden bench. Star scrubbed at her eyes, whimpering. How could she have lost it?

"Star?"

Star jerked her head up to see the hulking figure of Victor standing over her. He had a kind, concerned expression on his dark face, despite how formidable and strange his body seemed. A carved piece of wood stood in place of one leg, and poking out from the end of one coat sleeve was a tough-looking hand made of intricately jointed metals. He wore eyeglasses, but one of the lenses was blacked out to conceal a terrible scar.

"Star, is everything alright? Are you hurt?" Vic sounded a bit more menacing. To Star, he was something of an older brother, one who took care of her and made sure that anyone who upset her paid for their actions dearly.

"No, Oi'm fine." Star stood, back stiffly straight, and started to pick up a few vegetables that had fallen from her market basket. Vic just scanned the kitchen, taking in the chaos of doors flung open and kitchen utensils scattered.

"You've lost something."

Star blushed furiously and pointedly ignored the comment, but sniffled a bit.

"Tell me what you've lost, I can help you," Vic insisted, placing his metal hand lightly on Star's shoulder.

"mflmermblememmlem" Star muttered, her face by now nearly as red as her hair. Vic raised an eyebrow. He was obviously expecting something better than, "mflmermblememmlem".

"It's…" Star paused. "It's a – a letter, if you must know."

"Mm hm. A letter. Of course." Vic turned away with a smile. "Well, I suppose I should help you look for this 'letter'."

Eyes full of grateful thanks, Star nodded. Her protector and friend sat down thoughtfully, lounging by the old stone fireplace that had recently been replaced by a gas oven.

"Well, did you have it with you when you went to market?"

"Oi could be sure Oi did," Star said emphatically. She continued to clean up the mess she had made in her panic, although she seemed very distracted.

"You know how many pickpockets there are in that market square. Chances are, if you had it with you and now you can't find it, the letter got snatched," he concluded. "Did you run into anyone who seemed dodgy?"

"No, Oi don't think—" Star cut herself short, eyes going wide. Her expression of realization quickly gave way to one of rage that would send warriors running for cover. "—Oi did…" She growled menacingly.

"_Orange boy_."

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Gar whistled his way back through the thronging market, zig-zagging his way back to the secluded alley near his home, if a coal cellar could be called home. Glancing furtively around, he slid down to the back of the alleyway to examine the day's takings. The orange had long since been finished, each of the slices gone with a success. He settled down behind some dustbins, making sure he was alone before drawing the prizes from his numerous pockets. He muttered to himself as he examined each one in his dirty, practiced fingers.

"'Ere's a good one… Could prob'ly sell this for a bit… On'y tuppence? Really… Oo, that's a foine ring… Wot's this paper?" Gar paused in his studies. "Bloody worthless. 'Oo carries summat loike this around with them, eh?" Despite his grumblings, Gar pocketed the paper. You never knew when a good sheet of writing might come in handy. Still, he wondered. The only people who wrote in a hand like this were noblemen. What was a redhead kitchen girl doing with a lord's poetry?

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"Star, I told you, I can't go out yet. I've got a duty to Master Gray. The boy's most likely gone by now, anyways."

"Oh, please, Vic! You know Oi need that letter back. And there's a chance that 'e's still there. Oi'll never be able to foind 'im tomorrow!"

The large man sighed, rubbing his forehead with his good hand. "Very well. But I must notify Master Gray first. Hopefully he will understand."

"Thank you, thank you! Oi don't know wot Oi'd do without you…" Star flung her arms around Vic and then ran off to tend to her chores elsewhere in the house.

As the day went by and she continued preparations for the dinner, she could barely keep her mind on the tasks at hand. She was anxious to hear if Vic had gotten permission from the young master. He was the most wonderful master in the world… But he could be rather severe at times. Star sighed a bit just thinking of him, taking her mind even farther from housework. On more than one occasion she just barely managed to rescue something from breaking due to her carelessness. Finally, when the tension had reached the breaking point, uneven steps sounded from down the corridor. Star flew to meet the sound, flustered and nervous.

"Vic? Can you come?"

He smiled. "Yes, I can. Master Gray is very understanding of the situation. Although," Vic lowered his voice, "It would be best if Lord Gray did not hear of this."

Star nodded in worried agreement, and they set back out to the market.

The crowd in the square had started to disperse a bit as the day wore on, all the freshest foods having been taken. Even so, there were still many people milling about, and between Star's infamous beauty and Vic's huge, ravaged body, they attracted quite a few stares.

"Where did you say you were when you met him?" Vic inquired.

"Oi was roight…" Star thought for a moment, "Over there."

"I don't see him in that area. Can you remember anything about him that might help?"

Star frowned in frustration. "'Ee… Ee was wearin' an 'at that was too big for 'im. An'… An' ee was eatin' an orange."

"At least that's something. Let's start looking for orange stands."

"There's one! An' there's another! An' another… An'… Oh bugger. This is goin' to take a while."

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"This is the ninth we've tried. Are you sure the letter is that important?" Vic grumbled, glaring at a passing stranger who dared to gawk at his bizarre appearance.

Star wheeled around angrily. "Yes! Of course Oi am! Now, let's just wait a bit longer 'ere, maybe 'ee'll come around."

They waited. And waited a bit more. And spent a bit of time waiting, before they continued on waiting. For a change of pace, they attempted loitering, but that wasn't so nice, so they went back to waiting.

And then—

"There!" Star hissed as she jabbed Vic in the ribs, causing him to wake with a snort. "Ee just came out of that alley, there!"

"That's him? With the top hat? He's so dirty I can hardly see his skin!"

Star prodded Vic again. "Come on, we've got to get 'im!"

"Whatever you say," he shrugged, and sauntered over in the direction of the boy. Star followed a fair distance behind, hoping that she wouldn't be recognized. Thankfully, the boy's mind seemed to be somewhere else, probably totaling the day's earnings. Vic, meanwhile, drew steadily closer. As his path crossed the boy's, they bumped into each other. Before the creature could run off with a mumbled apology and whatever it was he had most likely just stolen, Vic's arms, human and metal, grabbed him tight.

"Got him!" Before Vic could celebrate, the panicked boy gave a violent twist and slid out from the man's death grip, losing his hat on the way. He hit the ground running, dodging through the crowd quick as a cat. "Hey!" Vic gave a shout and made chase, shoving startled vendors out of the way. Star, seeing what had happened, sprinted past Vic and quickly cut sideways between two carts, keeping one eye on the disappearing flash of the boy.

_Let's see if you know moi market as well as Oi do…_she thought, and ducked under an awning, still running. Suddenly she swept around and leapt to the side, colliding with the boy. He grunted in surprise as he was slammed down to the cobblestones and promptly pinned and choked by Star's strong, thin hands.

"Where is it? Where'd you put it?" She shouted into the boy's stunned face, which was rapidly turning blue.

"Hold off, Star!" Vic came running up. "You want to get something from him, not kill him." Taking a second glance at the situation, he grumbled, "I don't see what you needed me for…"

"Oh! Oi'm sorry," she apologized to the boy, releasing her chokehold on his throat. "Oi didn't realize."

"Jeez, laydie," the creature wheezed, rubbing his neck. "You're bloody mad!" He got up stiffly, and promptly walked straight into Vic.

"You aren't going anywhere, my friend," Vic announced grimly, taking the boy by the ear.

"Wot d'you want from me?" the boy scowled. "Oi ain't done anythin' wrong."

"Moi—The paper! The paper you stole from me! Oi want it back, now!" Star glared at him, although the glare was tempered with fear and panic.

"Well…" The boy thought for a moment. There was always a way to turn a situation to your advantage. "'Ow's this: You give me a meal, Oi'll give you the paper, roight?" He looked at the two expectantly. Star and Vic glanced at each other, skeptical about the boy's word.

"Oi… Oi suppose it's alright," Star offered hesitantly. Vic muttered agreement, and let go of the boy's ear, but left a warning hand on his shoulder.

"Good! Moi name's Gar, by the by, and Oi'll be wantin' to pick up moi hat before we go," he said, dusting himself off. "Now, 'ow do we get to your place?"

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**Ha! That wasn't too late, I don't think… Review and tell me how the accents are in this chapter. Or anything else about it, really. Just so long as you review! (hint hint) **

**Thanks to last chapter's reviewers: Snow Werewolf, scarthac's warrior, LFDG, bunnysquirrel, sillymail, akiismarina, Ruby, rogueandkurt, yadda yadda yadda, WickedWitchoftheSE, starlit moonshadow, and PurrJaede. **


	3. Bread and Bath

**It's been so incredibly long since my last posting that I'm not even going to say anything. Other than, "It's been freaking forever since my last posting."**

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By the time they got back to Gray Manor, Victor keeping a firm hand on Gar's skinny neck the whole walk there, it was thankfully still fairly early in the morning: late enough that breakfast would be over but still too early for lunch. That meant an empty kitchen, and no one to see Star and Victor dragging a pickpocket in off the streets. Star hesitated at the rough wooden servants' door and turned to glare at Gar, who was goggling in unmasked awe at the enormous manor.

"If you so much as DARE try to run orf wivout givin' me my letter, Oi will personally hunt you down again an' cut out your liver an' stuff it in that hat of yours. Understand?"

"You… You work at _Gray Manor?_ But- but that's the most famousest, richest, powerful, richest, richest place in the 'ole _city_!"

"Don't get any ideas. Now did you 'ear me or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, wotever you say, laydie, just so long as Oi get me food an' you leave me alone after this."

Star narrowed her eyes and stared for just a second more than was comfortable. With a "hmph!" of grudging trust, she whipped her red hair back, pushed open the creaking door, and disappeared into the warm stone dimness of the kitchen. Gar stood sullenly squinting on the threshold, trying to get his eyes to adjust after the bright cold of the London morning. Victor impatiently, but not unkindly, gave him a little shove, forcing Gar to stumble forward into the room. He himself had to stoop to enter, and shut the door behind them.

"Would you like any help, Star?" Victor called over his shoulder as he guided Gar to the thick, scarred tabled and sat him down on a low bench. Star busily stomped through the kitchen, collecting scraps of food that had been kept apart for the servants' lunch.

"No, Oi've got all Oi need," she distractedly waved him away. As she puttered about, poking the fire and cutting bread, the urchin at her table just stared suspiciously at his new surroundings. His hat, which had again fallen down over his ears, shadowed his grimy face, making his eyes look unnaturally large. Victor stood sentinel in a dark corner, arms crossed over his chest, his one good eye keeping a sharp watch on the boy. Gar was cleverer than he looked in those ridiculously oversized clothes, Victor could tell. It was something about the way his expression had changed when he had seen the size of the manor; something about the way he sat quietly while his eyes flickered about so quickly. This boy was used to surviving on the streets, and had to be fast, smart, and able to jump at any opportunity. Unless Victor was mistaken, this opportunity was greater than any the poor brat had ever had in his life. Poor though the boy might have been, Victor's duty was to protect the Gray family. He wouldn't let this thief out of his sight.

Victor sauntered over and sat down opposite Gar. The bench creaked under his weight and his metal hand lay conveniently in view on the tabletop. Gar's gaze settled there for a moment, then snapped up to Victor's face.

"So," the hulking man began conversationally. "You like oranges?"

Before Gar could reply, Star slammed a plate of food down in front of him. She stood with her arms akimbo and her eyes flaming with barely-suppressed anger. Her nostrils flared.

"There. You've got your food. Now give me my LETTER, or—" She stopped short, mouth slightly open in wonder. Gar had already begun shoveling the meal into his mouth, gobbling the bread and even biting into a whole half an onion with every appearance of gusto. After a full minute of focused eating, he looked up and mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, "Djoossysm'fn?"

Again left at a temporary loss for words, Star just raised a confused, quizzical eyebrow and waited for Gar to swallow his enormous mouthful. He managed to choke it down.

"Did you say sumfin'?"

"Yes, Oi did. Oi want my letter. Now."

"Well, Oi dunno if Oi should really—" Gar began, but Victor interrupted quickly. He knew that his boy was too bright to give away his only bargaining chip for free meals and access to a wealthy household, and that Star could be amazingly destructive when agitated. Better that they negotiate with the pickpocket _after_ Star had what she needed.

"Give her her letter. I could easily take it from you by force, but I'd rather I didn't have to do that." His metal fingers tapped menacingly on the table. Gar paused in his lighting-fast scarfing and gave some long, slow consideration to the thought of being ripped apart by an iron man. Then slowly and carefully, his cheeks still bulging with food, he reached into the stained, threadbare pocket of his coat and drew out a folded sheet of paper. Star instantly snatched it from his hand with a little gasp of relief. She hugged it to her chest for a moment, sqeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip, then sighed and gently slipped the paper into the waistband of her skirts, making sure it was securely immobile before turning back to face her friend and the boy, who had resumed eating.

Star smiled over at Victor, who cracked a small smile back at her and motioned for her to sit. She gracefully accepted, and sat with her head leaning against Victor's shoulder in tired camaraderie. The kitchen was warm and quiet, the only sounds being of Gar's steady eating and the soft crackle of the fire. And then one other small noise added itself to the room.

_Sniff._

_Sniff-sniff._

What had been generally masked by the cold wind and the smells of the city outdoors, slowly became more and more apparent.

Gar smelled like a coal pit that had been doused in sewer water. It took a minute for this to register with Star's nose and brain, but as soon as the connection had been made, she leapt up with a start and a cry.

"You need a _bath!_"

Gar came to an abrupt halt, his hand halfway to his mouth. "Wot?"

"You smell like horse-shit, if you don't mind my sayin'. You could do wiv a good bit of scrubbing!" Taken with her new idea, Star happily and industriously began to drag a large tin tub out of a cubboard. Gar still sat utterly frozen, eyes widely unblinking. He dropped his piece of bread with a dull thunk and stood up in one jerky, convulsive motion that crashed the bench over backwards.

"No."

"Ow, don't be so silly, you _need_ this. Don't worry, Oi'll get the water warm, an'—"

"No. Oi can't. You can't make me."

"Come on, don't argue, consider it part of wot Oi owe you for givin' me back my letter so nicely."

"No! Oi don't _want_—" Gar choked mid-sentence as Star grabbed him and began to wrestle him out of his coat. Victor frowned.

"Star, maybe you should reconsider. He seems serious, and he's just going back out onto the streets. He won't stay clean for long."

Gar had started struggling the minute the red-head had laid hands on him, and right as Victor finished talking, he suddenly exploded into panic. He twisted violently around, screeching and raking at Star's eyes. She let go in shock when he buried surprisingly sharp teeth in her arm. At this sudden release, Gar tumbled backwards, picked himself up and scrambled out the door and down the street like all the hounds of hell were after his blood.

Star stood bemusedly in the doorway.

"Oi was just tryin' to do 'im a favor…" she mumbled. Victor stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I understand. For now, though, we should be worrying about whether or not anyone heard that commotion. You know the sort of trouble there'll be with Lord Gray if he finds out you let a pickpocket into his home, even just into the kitchen."

Star nodded unhappily and began to quietly restore the kitchen to its habitually tidy state.

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**So… Life. Summer approacheth, so expect this to update more. I actually have a general plotline planned out for this, instead of blundering around without a clue like I did with my other TT fic. Hooray for planning!**


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